


In Vino Atramento

by rethrin



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rethrin/pseuds/rethrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has a secret, Peter worries about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Vino Atramento

Peter had been wrong all morning, looking at him with an expression Jared couldn't work out. And although Reading Peter Bash Like A Book was a sucky super power it was still the only one he'd ever had, so he was annoyed that it was failing him. Even as the waitress put the burgers in front of them Peter was looking at him from the corner of his eye, staring at the back of his neck to be precise. 

"Do I smell weird?"

"Yep."

Jared smiled even though Peter wasn't funny.

"I mean it. Is that why you're being all-" He resorted to hand gestures.

"I'm not being all-" Peter copied his hand gestures pretty precisely, then took a bite of his burger. Jared reached across him for the mustard, and felt Peter's eyes on him again as his sleeve rode up a little.

"Come on. What is it?"

"What?"

"You haven't done a piece of work all morning, you weren't listening to a thing I said on the way over here, and you're looking at me like I'm growing tentacles. What's up with you? Spill."

"I'm just tired." Peter took a sip of his soda. "Okay, so you can have any two women from any time in history but..."

Jared wouldn't usually let him get away with such an obvious escape, but thinking about a threesome with present-day ScarJo and 1998 ScarJo was some heavy-duty distraction. Peter knew his weaknesses.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Peter wasn't much better in the afternoon. Luckily Jared was a grade-a awesome lawyer, so he got Judge Michaels to throw the opposition's case out, and release their client. And when he turned to Peter to take all the credit Peter was distracted again, and bumped against him, knocking his scalding hot coffee all over Jared's shirt.

"Fuck!"

"Mr Franklin, you are still in my court room."

"Sorry your honor, burning to death." He held the hot fabric away from him, and tried to brush coffee off it without burning his hand. "Peter what the fu- heck?"

"Sorry. Here." He dabbed at Jared inefficiently with a paper napkin, then plucked at Jared's shirt, pulling it away from him. "You should take it off."

Jared shoved him away. "Dude, I am not stripping off in court. I'm not you." The heat had mostly gone now and Jared was pretty sure no permanent harm was done. "If there's scarring you're picking up the bill."

"Sure, yeah."

Jared looked at him, wondering if he should be worried instead of annoyed but Peter was shrugging like it was nothing. He turned away and hugged their client taking half the credit for none of the work. Jared decided annoyed was appropriate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter came in without knocking just as Jared was changing for bed. He pulled his tee down quickly and looked up to see what Peter wanted just to find him staring at Jared's bare feet. 

"Hey," Jared said. "What's up?"

Peter shrugged and came further into the room. Picked up a sock off Jared's dresser and threw it into the laundry pile. Shoved a drawer closed with his knee.

"You offering a free maid service now?" Jared kept his tone light, and started clearing stuff off his bed, ready to get into it.

"I went to see Dr Doug the other day."

Jared's insides froze, his skin was too tight, he couldn't breathe. He'd spent the last week dreading this and at the same time reassuring himself constantly that it wouldn't happen. 

"Oh," he said. He meant to say more, but he was blank.

"He asked if I'd come for the 'other half'."

"Oh."

"But then he clammed up when he realised I didn't know what he was talking about."

"Oh." Jared forced himself to pick up a pile of clothes, drop them on the floor. Peter didn't know. He only sort of knew. Jared could get through that.

Peter was quiet for a while. Jared shook out the covers and hoped he would leave it.

"So what is it? Why didn't you tell me you were getting a new tat?"

Jared shrugged, as if it wasn't that weird; as if Peter hadn't been there for every one of the others. "It's nothing. And so much for his patient confidentiality."

"He figured I already knew."

Peter's voice was quiet and serious and Jared knew he was confused. He turned to him, feigning innocence.

"It's just not a big deal."

"So show me."

"No, I..." He tried to think of a good reason, but couldn't. "It's none of your business."

Peter was quiet a while, and Jared could feel his own words hanging in the air between them. He felt cold.

"Dude, it's not... it's just a tattoo, it was a mistake."

"Just show me. I won't laugh."

Laughing would be one of the terrible things that Jared dreaded, but not the worst.

"I know, but... it's not... I don't have to tell you everything."

Peter sighed, because that wasn't the point. The point wasn't that Jared didn't have to, it was that he'd chosen not to, which meant something in itself. And Jared knew that. They'd argued that distinction too many times to bother with it any more.

"Okay," Peter said after a moment or two, clearly not saying it was okay, just taking stock.

"Okay," Jared agreed, angry suddenly without meaning to be. 

"It's not..."

"What?"

"It's not half a dragon, then?"

Jared wished it was half a fucking dragon. He shook his head. Peter waited a few seconds more.

"You're seriously not going to tell me?"

"It's nothing."

Peter narrowed his eyes at him, trying to work him out. Jared turned away again, neatening up pillows that were already neat. Peter left without saying anything else and let the door slam on the way out. Fear and relief, tension and panic all combined in Jared, an aching weight in his chest. He lay in bed trying to figure out what he was going to say tomorrow.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He didn't have to say anything tomorrow because Peter avoided him casually but skilfully, and even when they were together he barely spoke to him. Perfectly civil but nothing more. That was fine, Jared could ride it out if Peter wanted to pout.

Two days later Jared went on a full on charm offensive, funny and cute. He made Peter smile a grand total of once. 

The next day Peter showed up at the office and didn't even say hello. He put a cardboard box on his desk, and started looking through the filing cabinet for that day's case file. He didn't put his briefcase down, didn't take off his jacket. He wasn't staying.

Jared went and took the box while his back was turned.

Peter found his file, then went to pick up his box again and leave. He saw it on Jared's desk.

"Cute." 

He went over to get it, but Jared stepped in front of it, overflowing with frustration.

"Fuck you. So what? I don't show you a tattoo and now you're going to ignore me for the rest of your life? Seriously?"

"It's what you wanted, isn't it? We don't have to tell each other everything, remember."

"You're acting like a child."

"So are you."

"Me? I haven't been ignoring you for days. I didn't order pizza last night for everyone except you, I didn't block you on facebook, I didn't-" 

"No, you just got some sort of fucking matching tattoo with someone and you won't even tell me who, but I'm not allowed to-"

"What? No I... What?"

"Doug said you had half a tattoo."

Jared stared at him blankly.

"And I don't have the other half."

Jared's eyebrows wrinkled. "So you just assumed someone else did?"

Peter nodded.

" _Who_?" Jared asked, totally confused by the idea.

"What?"

"Who the hell would I get a matching tattoo with?"

"I don't know. Some secret girlfriend or... someone. Another friend. Someone I don't know." 

Peter's shoulders fell, like saying it now he could hear that it sounded kind of paranoid. But he'd clearly been believing it for the last few days, and that made more sense of why this was a big deal. He'd worked it up into way more than just a tattoo. Jared felt a little of his anger fading. 

"It's not like that."

Peter sighed, his eyes scanning through the glass walls of their office to see if people were watching them fight. Nobody was, they argued worse than this two or three times a week. Or not worse, Jared thought, but louder. He didn't think they'd argued worse than this for a long time.

Peter ran his hand through his hair - embarrassed or exasperated, Jared didn't know which - and he didn't really look at him. 

"But you didn't tell me about it."

"It's stupid."

"Doug acted really weird about it when he told me, like it was... I don't know."

"Yeah? Did he tell you I was drunk?" 

He had been really really drunk, and Peter had been off on some date with Sarah, their sixth date, or seventh. They were going to get married and have babies. Maybe they'd get matching tattoos, he thought bitterly.

"No, he didn't say."

"Friends shouldn't tattoo friends when they're drunk," Jared said seriously and Peter at least nodded at that. "So you shouldn't trust anything he says."

Peter didn't say anything.

"And I'm going to get it removed. But I have to wait six weeks."

Peter shook his head, that wasn't good enough. He spoke quietly. "It felt like he was laughing at me. Doug. Like it was a big joke that I didn't know, that you hadn't told me."

Peter sounded bruised, and Jared hated it but he didn't know what to say. He could feel the tattoo burning on his skin, making his back itch. He was sure it was glowing through his clothes and giving him away. 

"It's not a joke, it's nothing." He knew that wasn't nearly enough.

They looked at each other for a while, then Peter sighed. "Just give me the box."

Jared frowned, but he held it out. "What is it, anyway?"

"Sarah's stuff. She's meeting me in front of the courthouse to get it back."

"Oh. You guys...?"

"We broke up. Not that you care."

"Sorry."

Peter shook his head, like he didn't believe him or it didn't matter or who knows what. He left and Jared couldn't think of anything to say to stop him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

That evening Peter never came home, and when Jared asked where he was Pindar looked at him weirdly and said Vegas, as if that was obvious. Peter had taken a vacation, cleared it with Stanton, handed his cases off to Hanna and Karp, told Carmen and Pindy, and not said a word to Jared.

For the first couple of days Jared was determined not to let it get to him. He texted him a few times and got nothing in reply. Thought about calling, but still didn't know what he'd say. 

Slowly the ache inside him grew. Same one he was used to when Peter was away, only a million times worse because Peter wasn't feeling the same, and he couldn't talk to him. 

By day six Jared's insides were a full on melodrama where he had ruined his entire life by getting a tattoo, and Peter was never going to forgive him, in fact he'd probably fall in love with some stripper and marry her and never come back. When Stanton knocked on his office door and happily showed Jared a picture Peter had texted him, of Peter and some girl Jared didn't know on a gondola, Jared damn near threw the phone out the window. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

On the Saturday he started drinking at lunchtime. He quickly ran out of beer and moved seamlessly onto vodka, and from there to half a bottle of apricot brandy he found at the back of the cupboard. 

He was trying to compose a text forcing Peter to come back without actually begging or seeming needy or admitting that he missed him at all. It wasn't going well and he was deleting his twenty-sixth attempt when Peter came home. 

He said hi when Jared did, and told Carmen it had been awesome when she asked. Then he claimed he was exhausted and went straight to his room. 

Jared followed him immediately, powered by indignant alcohol. He slammed the door behind him. 

"You have to stop being mad at me, it was a _mistake_ , I was _drunk_." 

Peter ignored him, and started dragging clothes out of his bag and into a drawer. 

"You can't not talk to me, you're my best friend."

Peter huffed at that. "Am I? You obviously don't trust me any more." He looked to Jared then to see if he'd deny it. 

Jared shook his head. "You don't trust me," he said, attacking because he couldn't defend. "You don't trust me when I say it's nothing."

"You don't act like it's nothing."

Nothing Jared could say to that because he knew it was true. He should just go. Peter would have to get over it eventually, he'd just wait and it would be oka-

"Dr Doug thinks I'm in love with you," the alcohol said. "That's why he was being weird."

Peter stared at him. Jared stared back, equally surprised.

"But it's okay. Because I'm not properly," he said quickly before the alcohol could make it any worse. 

"Oh."

"Don't freak out."

"Why does he think..?"

"Because I had a stupid tattoo, and because I didn't tell him I wasn't, but that doesn't mean I am."

Peter stared at him for a whole minute.

"Don't freak out," Jared repeated.

"Let me see it."

Jared's face fell, he couldn't breathe. He shook his head helplessly. "I can't."

"Why?"

"It's... I just can't." His brain tripped over itself looking for escapes. "I'm getting rid of it. Promise you'll be my friend again when it's gone."

He looked up hopefully but Peter was frowning, and Jared knew it wasn't really fair. They looked at each other for a few moments more, both frowning now. Then Peter shook his head and went back to unpacking. Jared watched him helplessly.

"Okay, I'll show you," the alcohol said. 

Jared couldn't even blame it this time, Peter's hurt was palpable, and it was his fault. Well it was alcohol's fault, but Jared had been there too. "Just don't say anything. It's not... I don't..."

He gave up. He turned round, took a deep breath, and lifted up his hoodie and t-shirt as one, hooking them over his shoulder without actually taking them off.

Peter reached out for him immediately, his hand hot against Jared's skin as it curled around Jared's ribcage, holding him in place. His other lifted the fabric slightly higher so he could see it fully, printed dark against Jared's skin between his shoulder blades. Jared couldn't hear a thing, wasn't sure Peter was still breathing, and he didn't know what to say. He tried to steel himself for Peter laughing, he'd let go of him then, and Jared would leave. 

Peter's thumb stroked over his skin, like he was trying to smudge the ink, wipe it away and Jared wanted to die but he didn't move.

"You put my name on you." Peter wasn't talking to him, not exactly, and Jared heard him breathing now, long and ragged. "Dude."

It was the fiery sun from their first logo. But Dr Doug had moved the text into the middle of the circle, and Jared had decided he didn't need his name, just '&BASH'. Then alcohol had added the symbol for eternity under it which was very fundamentally not and never had been a part of their logo, but Jared had gone along with it anyway. It was stupid and he loved it and every time he thought about having it lasered off his skin he felt sick inside. 

Peter stroked it again, pressing hard over it with his thumb. 

"Dude," he said again.

"I know it's stupid, I didn't mean to, I could have my name put in so it would be less weird, or fill it in, or-"

Peter kissed him. Right on the ink. Except it wasn't a kiss, he just stroked his lips against Jared's skin, his breath hot, and that was even better somehow. Jared's head fell to his chest and he moaned helplessly, confused about every second of his life up to this point. Peter's fingers stroked over it again. 

"What do you mean you're not properly?" 

"Huh?"

"You said you weren't properly in love with me, but this is..." Peter's voice caught and he pressed the tattoo again. Jared kept still, was going to stay exactly where he was for as long as Peter would let him. 

"I don't know what I mean," he said honestly. 

Peter let go of him and Jared frowned, honesty sucked. He pulled his clothes back down but didn't turn around.

"I'm not if you don't want me to be."

Peter's hand tangled in the front of Jared's hoodie as he pulled him round to him, and his mouth was warm and soft against Jared's, and the kiss lasted a split second or an eternity, Jared wasn't sure. 

When he let him go Jared reeled, dizzy now with more than alcohol. Couldn't bring himself to look up, looked at the floor. 

"You're not mad at me."

He felt Peter shake his head. Jared's heart was pounding, and all the alcohol had settled in his legs and he didn't know how much longer he could stand up and he wanted Peter to kiss him again and Peter wasn't saying anything.

"Are you going to do that again?"

Peter did and Jared heard himself moaning gently against Peter's mouth. 

"You're drunk," Peter said.

Jared nodded.

"We should do this when you're soberer."

Jared nodded again, they should do this whenever Peter wanted forever.

"Why did you get it?"

Jared shrugged. "I was drunk." Then he tried harder. "Because I wanted it, but when I wasn't drunk I wouldn't have done it."

"You should have shown me."

"I didn't want you to hate it. Because I like it. Even if we're not... Even if kissing me isn't for real and you want me to get rid of it, I like it."

Peter half smiled and kissed him again. Longer this time, and Jared felt his toes curling, felt himself floating. Afterwards he leaned forward against Peter's chest and Peter's hand came up immediately, between his shoulder blades, pressing into the fabric over the ink. Jared moaned long and low, closed his eyes. 

"I want you to be," Peter said quietly after a few minutes. "In the morning when you're not drunk."

"Want me to be what?" Jared was going to be whatever Peter wanted, he'd just lost track.

"Properly in love with me."

"Oh." Jared looked up at him and Peter smiled. "Yeah?"

Peter nodded, and his smile spread to his eyes. "You should have shown me."

"Didn't know you were going to be nice to me. Thought you'd act all weirded out about it and move to New York."

"Let me see it again." Peter started lifting Jared's clothes back up, and Jared let him, let him pull them over his head and drop them to the floor. Peter kissed his mouth again, his hands hot on Jared's skin, and Jared knew he was shaking but Peter didn't seem to mind. He turned him round and looked again, and immediately he was touching it, stroking it so softly. Then he kissed the back of Jared's neck. 

"Don't get rid of it," he whispered against his skin.

Jared shook his head, obviously he wasn't going to get rid of it.

"I didn't know what it would be that meant you wouldn't tell me. I hated it."

"Sorry."

Peter shook his head. His hand stroked down Jared's side. "You know Sarah thinks I'm in love with you, that's why she broke up with me."

"Oh."

"And Janie," Peter whispered into Jared's hair. "And Wendy."

"Oh."

"I told them they were crazy."

"Yeah?" Jared's insides were knotting themselves up.

"But then I started thinking maybe they had a point, 'cause I was going out of my mind thinking you had someone that wasn't me."

Jared twisted back to face him then, keeping Peter's arms tight around him, a little shy of being half undressed, of the way he pressed into Peter's touch, and of the smile that he couldn't seem to control. But Peter was smiling back, just as stupidly. 

Jared kissed him hard and long, until Peter was whining deep in his throat, until he was lifting Jared up just because it was easier than leaning over, until Jared nudged and shoved at him and he got the idea and carried him a couple of steps back to the bed and they fell into the pillows.

Peter groaned with pain as Jared's elbow landed in shoulder and Jared laughed, then stopped laughing because Peter rolled them over, was on top of him, pressing on him in all the best ways, and he was smiling. 

Jared attempted the buttons on Peter's shirt, but Peter was kissing him, and touching him, and apricot brandy had robbed him of fine motor control. Eventually he gave up in frustration. He went to pull it over Peter's head instead but Peter caught his wrist. 

"We should st-"

"No."

Peter looked at him. Jared poked him in the chest. "You won seventy bucks off me last month when I'd drunk half the bar. Last year you made me agree on swapping cases after two bottles of champagne and I had to defend that old pigeon lady. When we were nineteen you bet me Lucy Miller's phone number that I couldn't climb those railings when I couldn't even balance on my own two feet."

"I caught you when you fell."

"Yes you did."

Peter looked at him like he didn't have a point.

"You take advantage of me all the time when I'm drunk!"

"Oh." Peter smiled. "This is different though. If you regret it in the morning I couldn't-"

"I won't." Jared stroked his fingers through Peter's hair. "I promise."

"Cross your heart?"

Jared nodded, and because he was drunk and Peter was pretty, he pulled Peter's hand to his heart, pressing it there. "Cross my heart." 

He regretted it the moment he'd done it, because it was kind of dumb, but Peter didn't mock him. He just laughed gently, nothing but love in it, and stroked him, crossing his heart. Jared grinned, relieved. Peter loved stupid soppy stuff, he reminded himself. Always had. 

"Well, if you promise." Peter's eyes twinkled, and he cupped Jared's jaw as he kissed him again, and this time he didn't object when Jared's hands ventured under his shirt. He pressed closer, taking full advantage.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'in vino, veritas' square of my tropes bingo card.  
> The title (hopefully) translates to "In wine, ink".


End file.
